


Something Entirely New

by theplanetmarz



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Blood, Crying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Ghost Jschlatt (Video Blogging RPF), Ghost Wilbur Soot, Hurt/Comfort, One Shot, Parent Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Vomiting, Wilbur Soot and Technoblade are Siblings, Wilbur Soot and Technoblade are Twins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-18 20:55:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28624458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theplanetmarz/pseuds/theplanetmarz
Summary: “You’re not Wilbur.”Techno sighs, stands up and turns to look at Phil again. “Phil I think we messed up.”“No-no shit!” the blond yelps, letting his head fall into Techno’s chest. Techno stares down awkwardly.-Bringing someone back to life is apparently really hard, especially when he's not the only one wandering in the afterlife.
Relationships: Nothing romantic, Technoblade & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot & Technoblade, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & Phil Watson, i will k word anyone who sees this as shipping of any sort /hj
Comments: 17
Kudos: 210





	Something Entirely New

_ Sick.  _

_ He felt sick.  _

_ His tongue is on fire, his head is splitting. This must be what death feels like.  _

_ He can’t hear anything- is there anything to hear - but a high pitched ring, rupturing through his brain.  _

_ “My hands,” he thinks, sluggishly looking downwards, “I can’t feel my hands.”  _

_ His palms are calloused, rough and dirty. He doesn’t recognize them. These are not his hands.  _

_ A jingling clink sounds through the empty space.  _

_ A bottle, nearly empty, rolls to hit the tips of his shoes. He crinkles to his knees, an exasperated breath escaping his chest.  _

_ He fumbles his limp fingers, clumsily picking up the bottle, bringing it to his lips. A cool liquid drips onto his tongue, and down his throat. Booze. _

_ The chill doesn’t last long, as his insides begin to burn up once again.  _

_ Something is rising in his throat. It’s almost as hot as whatever occupies the rest of his body.  _

_ It must be bile, vomit, judging from the way it burns his inside throat. But whatever is now dripping from his mouth isn’t bile. It’s blood.  _

_ His head throbs, a newfound pain entering his already tormented body. Above his ears, mid-head, it’s nearly numb with the splitting white pain.  _

_ How is he alive? How is he surviving this? Surely his brain must be exploding.  _

_ “ _ Wilbur _.”  _

_ Why is that voice so familiar? A low grumble, stern and almost harsh, but just soft enough to feel reassuring.  _

_ “ _ Wilbur what happened to you? _ ”  _

_ He looks up, blinking the tears from his eyes. A figure stands distantly, flickering between forms. One moment it’s a blond man in a dark green cloak, the next it’s a man in a blue jacket and beanie, then a fox standing on two legs, then a pig doing the same, before shifting even further to a brunet boy, then a blond boy.  _

_ “Hello?” he finds his voice- rather voices, to work. Whatever is coming out of his mouth is an echoed mumble of two voices being squished towards one. It’s unnatural, eerie.  _

_ “ _ Wilbur wake up.” 

_ He clambers to his feet once more, limping towards the being. He could fumble and fall at any moment. The ringing in his head, and the pain on his head, numb as he approaches.  _

_ The figure reaches out an arm, as it flashes quicker between its many faces.  _

_ He copies the movement, extending his arm weakly.  _

_ A buzz ripples through his body, a blast of warmth suddenly causing him to lose his balance. It feels like he’s being boiled alive, tongue dry, hands clammy, and body sweating what may as well be buckets, pools even. _

_ Despite the introduced fever, he staggers forwards.  _

_ The being beckons again, “ _ Wilbur, please.” 

_ That must be his name. Wilbur.  _

_ Why does it feel like that doesn’t fit though? Why does he not feel like ‘Wilbur’?  _

_ His fingers tremble, as he finally reaches the figure.  _

_ He’s met with a flash of blazing white light, and he can’t see.  _

“Wilbur! Please!” Phil begs on his knees, staring down at the unresponsive ghost. He can’t grab and shake him, his fingers just phase through. The ghost is left, unmoving, floating just above the grass. 

Phil sniffs, wiping his tears and snot on his sleeve. A warm hand rests gently on his shoulder, Techno standing solemnly silent. 

“We need to go, it’s getting dark.” 

“But what if it rains? We have to stay.”

“Phil,” Techno crouches down to meet Phil’s gaze, a drippy red face, “He’ll be okay.” 

Suddenly, there’s shuffling. 

The duo’s heads snap to stare at the wonder before them. Wilbur has  _ horns _ ; curled assets spiraling from the sides of his head. And his body is no longer ghostly, a translucent vessel, it’s  _ solid _ . He looks  _ alive _ .

His eyes flutter open. As Phil and Techno stare, waves of shock splashing over them in ritual, the man sits up. He stares down at his hands, examining the back and front. 

He’s nearly knocked back over with the force of Phil’s hug. 

“You’re-you’re back...” the sniffles, petting the back of Wilbur’s hair, “You’re really back.” 

Wilbur stays solid in place. 

He’s still cold to the touch, but Phil ignores this fact, after all, he can hug his boy again. 

“L-l-let go.” Wilbur sputters. 

“What?” his father loosens his grip slightly, still keeping himself wrapped around him, chin buried into his shoulder, fingers clenching the back of his sweater. 

“I said,” Wilbur shoves him with enough force to send Phil slumping backwards, “Let go.” 

“Wilbur,” Techno spits, “Don’t treat him like that. What’s wrong with you?” 

“Who’s Wilbur?” 

Phil and Techno gape, tears returning to Phil’s eyes, as he clasps his fingers over his mouth to conceal a cry. 

Techno kneels, setting his hand gently on Wilbur’s shoulder. The mousy haired man flinches at first, before settling. 

He speaks, trying to ignore the muffled chokes of Phil behind him, “You’re Wilbur.” 

Wilbur raises a hand, pointing a finger to his chest, “Me?” 

Techno nods, met by a shake of the head. 

“I’m not Wilbur- I’m no Sch- I don’t know who I am.” 

Techno cups his hand around Wilbur’s cheek, gazing into his eyes. 

One eye is a light shade of blue, the other a hazel brown. 

They’re not the eyes of his twin. 

He brushes his hand down to his chin, poking at Wilbur’s new found stubble with his thumb. 

_ “You’re not Wilbur.”  _

Techno sighs, stands up and turns to look at Phil again. “Phil I think we messed up.” 

“No-no shit!” the blond yelps, letting his head fall into Techno’s chest. Techno stares down awkwardly. 

“We spliced him with Schlatt.” 

Phil snaps his head up as he steps backwards, “ _ What? _ ” 

“Look,” Techno gestures, “Horns, Phil? He’s got stubble and sideburns coming in, and his eyes are the wrong colours. I think we made a new...person.” 

The two look from each other, over to Wilbur-or-Schlatt-no-he’s not either. He’s something entirely new. 

He’s running his hands through the grass, seemingly amazed by how it feels, judging by his mouth hanging open and the tiny sounds of astonishment that he’s whispering. 

He’s liked a child, everything’s new. 

“Do you think he remembers anything?” Phil murmurs.

“There’s a chance, but, it doesn’t look like it, at least not  _ yet _ .” 

“Hey!” Phil promptly calls, the man’s head snapping upwards to look at him, “What’s your name?” 

“I-um-I don’t know. I don’t have a name.” His voice is a solid mix of the two predecessors; airy but gruff, smooth but somehow gravely. A British accent is audible, except during his stutters, where a New York accent seeps in. He sounds tired over anything else though. 

Phil and Techno, the duad, glance at each other, sharing a silent thought; an agreement. 

“Schilbur, we’re gonna call you Schilbur, alright?” 

The newly named Schlibur nods in response, as Techno steps forwards, helping him to his feet. He wobbles a bit, knees buckling, before steadying himself against his aid. 

“Why don’t we go get you settled?” 

Shilbur smiles warily, before looking past his helper, and up to the sky. 

White stars litter the sky, against a dark blue backdrop. Schilbur raises his hand up, before bringing it back down, 

_ “Stars.”  _

“Oh, you know what those are?” 

“How could I forget stars?” 

Phil appears beside the two, looking up at the sky with them. “Let’s go home boys.” 

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!! working on alot of things rn, so stick around if u like my stuff :]
> 
> -  
> comments motivate me to write!! kudos is also appreciated


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